


i shall keep loving you

by bountifulsilences



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, M/M, Make Up, Mental Anguish, Pre-War, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-19 16:58:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17605280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bountifulsilences/pseuds/bountifulsilences
Summary: Who knew that something so intricately forged, jagged edges smoothen with sandpaper and stitches woven with the finest silk, could be so fragile and delicate?“They won’t find out Buck, they have no reason to be suspicious,” Steve assured him.“They will eventually, you know that they will Steve. You hear what they do to people like us? You know what they do?” Considering the faraway look in Bucky’s eyes, he didn’t reply. “The lucky ones don’t make it out alive, the others...their screams are trapped in the jails Steve. It’s horrible. And it can be us one day.”





	i shall keep loving you

**Author's Note:**

> repost just because I can't stop thinking about this 
> 
> im crying over stevebucky what is new
> 
> unedited bc why not
> 
> I hope you enjoy this ! :D

Who knew that something so intricately forged, jagged edges smoothen with sandpaper and stitches woven with the finest silk, could be so fragile and delicate?

With hesitation dripping from his words and fear clogging his throat, it was Steve who had ventured to Bucky’s heart and pounded on the door, adamant but so terrified. He wasn’t known for backing away from fights- his own heart being amongst those, however giving himself to another person in his entirety and allowing them to look at his flaws with a microscope, scrutinize his person with omniscient spectacles; his heart beat rapidly in his chest.

But, surprising as always, Bucky was both relieved and sad, emotions wrapped into a bundle of contradiction that burdened his back. Enclosing him with gangly arms, his chest thrummed excitedly competing with Steve’s and his breathing soared, adrenaline coursing through the veins coiling in his body.

It wasn’t that Steve doubted Bucky’s love, his frown as he listened to the countless ruminations and terror filled anecdotes were out of worry, they weren’t him considering a pernicious explanation for the, “this is bad. What if they find out? Did you see the way Gloria was looking at us, what if she knows?”

Concerns were valid as they lived in secret, there was only so much the weak walls could conceal and there was only so much they could endure, living in a lie. Seeing Bucky off every other night to see a dame who would no doubt be enamoured by his captivating personality (like Steve had) was never easy, but it shouldn’t had had to been so hard.

Watching the only man he’d ever loved envelop another's body and smile down at them, eyes consumed with adoration and emotion- it was difficult to witness. Had Steve been certain that Bucky was as confident about them as he was, then perhaps the jealousy raving in his chest or the lungs seizing painfully would never occur.

But he wasn’t. So, it did.

“You deserve so much better Steve, deserve a whole world that I can’t give you,” Bucky would declare, puppy dog eyes peering up at him from where he lay. “What’d I do to get so lucky? Why’d you be willing stay with a guy like me? You deserve the sun, the moon, and the entire universe. I can’t give you a single star.”

Smiling sadly, Steve would say, “you don’t got to give me anything Buck, you are my universe.”

But as though a bullet was ricocheting in the corridors of his mind, Bucky would flinch and look away, far away and voice dreadfully empty say, “you can do a lot better than me. A whole lot better.”

Steve wasn’t ignorant to the insecurities that plagued Bucky, the haunting issues dwindling his self-esteem and confidence and worth. Hearing him elevate Steve onto a pedestal crafted with gold which was decorated with the grandest of designs, it was clear he found himself to be the problem.

It baffled Steve, had his eyes widening into saucers and defensive words at the ready to spew, that a man capable of raising the dead using sheer determination and intelligence, the kindest soul he’d ever met apart from his ma, a constant vibrant light the spread joy everywhere it touched, thought so lowly of himself. He didn’t know what to do.

After all, he was no stranger to himself, he knew he lacked in every department that existed. There was a reason people didn’t find him attractive, preferred Steve as a shoulder to cry on than a man to fall in love with. But Bucky’s issues surpassed his by miles and it shook the ground on which they stood together.

Steve always sought him, tried to find Bucky Barnes in the crowd of bodies like his feet searched for the ground every morning he rose from bed. Perceptive as always, he knew that their time was limited; their relationship was precarious from the start. But the more he noticed that Bucky held himself back whilst he gave it all, the harder he found it to find his footing. The ground fled from his feet.

“They won’t find out Buck, they have no reason to be suspicious,” Steve assured him, staring at the highlight accentuating his nose and jaw; Bucky’s face was mesmerising.

“They will eventually, you know that they will Steve. You hear what they do to people like us? You know what they do?” Considering the faraway look in Bucky’s eyes, he didn’t reply. “The lucky ones don’t make it out alive, the others...their screams are trapped in the jails Steve. It’s horrible. And it can be us one day.”

He knew, that was the thing. Choosing to be together, they knew the magnitude of the risk they were taking, the severity of the situation and the possible consequences if anyone found out. Steve had acknowledged the dangers of his identity and a relationship long before he said anything to Bucky.

It could be them, he didn’t delude himself to believe otherwise. Every kiss they shared, all the heartfelt whispers and the laughing onto each other’s bodies, the love in his eyes as he watched Bucky- this could all end because he was doing it. The entire thing was a gamble.

A gamble he decided that was worth taking. Whether Bucky felt the same way, he was dubious. Perhaps he did, after all he was indulging in the same things he was, but hesitancy cloaked every move and every breath when he did, highlighting an agitation ( _scepticism_?) that he couldn’t quite shake off.

So, with every surge forward, Steve gave it his all to cancel out any trepidation from Bucky hoping that he was enough. That the things he was willing to give to preserve their love was enough to gloss Bucky’s issues. But it never was.

Bucky came in fierce and strong, all unintentionally but preventable all the same. It was hard trying to juggle every bowling pin when he was being pelted with problems from everywhere- his own love life too.

“I love you Stevie, so much that I can’t breathe sometimes when I think about it,” Bucky confessed into Steve’s shoulder one night. His body was a blanket over Steve, arm enclosed on his waist and nose burrowed into his neck, breathing hard and fast.

“I love you too Buck, you’re the best guy I know,” Steve told him, his hand capturing Bucky's wrist and holding it, desiring more contact. “Don’t know what I did to deserve you but whatever it is, I ain’t complaining.”

“Make me so happy Steve, you really do. I just got to look at you and I start to smile. Even when we fight, and you won’t look or talk to me, looking at you is enough. You make my half empty glass full, you gotta know that, you do, don’t you? You’re my everything: my moon, my stars and my sun,” Bucky announced, voice trembling from something Steve couldn’t detect.

Maybe it was the ferocity behind his statement, or the emotion thick in his throat, perhaps even the cold seeping under the three blankets and nipping their skin despite the abundant heat. But whatever it was, Steve couldn't name it.

He was too busy hating himself for not trusting Bucky’s words; did Bucky really feel happy every time he looked at Steve? The double dates they went on proved otherwise because actions spoke louder than words and Bucky had said everything he needed to when surrounded by a dame.

It came as a dreadful surprise when things diminished between them, and the love burning in the centre of their relationship wasn’t enough, that Bucky...shut down. Like a machine needing calibration, he didn’t work properly, spending overtime at the garage to amend mistakes he made during the day and stuttering over words that usually came easy to him- to them.

His smiles became scarce, coming out rarely when something excited him enough to warrant a grin, but like he’d suddenly realise what he was doing, his lips would deflate and turn downwards, hollow. Steve took it all in stride, unsure of what to say or do when Bucky clearly wanted him but held himself back.

Turned out that he had been saying the truth, Steve truly did make him happy. So, why purposefully abstain from his happiness? It wasn’t as though much had changed between them, Bucky still treated him with little things when he had change and Steve continued to do the same, exchanging art for science fiction books that local bookkeepers kept.

The only real difference was the lack of touch and smiles. Their home was plagued with melancholy, their atmosphere insufferable, stifling, and unbearable. He couldn’t stand it, eyes welled with emotions and words he could never project.

Bucky wanted this, had purposely crushed their relationship to obtain whatever truce they now had. Of course, it pained Steve, pounded him with an onslaught of worry, despair, and confusion. But he still couldn’t let Bucky go, he was fickle like sand and Steve would clench his fist for as long as he had to in order to preserve what little they had left.

Want, need, desire- all known to Bucky and lingering in every soft graze and touch; he wanted Steve.

And because he was a masochist who couldn’t imagine a life without Bucky Barnes, Steve clutched onto the hope and pressed himself against all the yearning emanated from his best guy, praying for refuge.

He wasn’t sure how long he had left, the repercussions of losing all that he ever cherished was detrimental and resulted in physical ailments he couldn’t quite shake. It was apparent that Bucky noticed even though he said nothing. Skating around him on thin ice that trembled, constantly touching his overheated skin, and placing rags on his forehead- yes, Steve knew that he pieced the puzzle together.

But, the thing was, Steve didn’t and couldn’t blame him for any of it. His treacherous body was too weak to sustain heartache and how could he lie to say that Bucky was at fault? Fighting his weakening lungs and straining his ears, massaging his rusted bones, and crying himself to sleep unable to contain the pain- it was all on him.

He hadn’t been so bad since the death of his ma, which was so devastating that he almost died too, joining her trail and trekking all the way to deaths arms. How he managed to survive was unknown to him, but he had an inkling of which hand dug into his sealed grave and frantically dragged him out.

It was during this time that the war came to them and Bucky was drafted immediately, something about young blood and fighting for his country. Steve desperately tried to follow, enlisting multiple times, and lying on his form whilst Bucky was away at boot camp, wishing that somewhere, someone would take him. But they didn’t, and when Bucky was back, he felt shame case him like shells around bullets, barely holding him together before he exploded.

But when Bucky abandoned- no, _left_. When Bucky _left_ him the night before he was shipped out, with a simple but hopeless, “don’t do anything stupid until I get back.”

Steve really had no words to obscure how much it hurt that Bucky was going out with dames instead spending time with him. “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”

Bucky saw through it anyway and drew him in, hugging him sharp and tight. “Punk.”

“Jerk.”

It was funny how things worked out in the end, because that was how Steve attained his ticket to the war and Bucky’s side, (ex) lovers in arm. Good thing too, considering how he managed to save him and the 107th from fates worse than death itself. Well, most of them.

(A strange scent, rich in decomposition, radiated from a room to his right whilst navigating through the factory. Pausing outside it, breathing heavy and shield braced for a surprise attack, he pressed a curious ear against the metal only for his nose senses to be slaughtered with the stench. He knew what death smelt like. His musk used to emanate it profusely.)

So, walking beside by Bucky and the rest of the soldiers patiently answering invasive questions and telling half-truths through the confines of his mouth, they returned to the base where merriment and cheer elevated the mood. Relief was addictive, and Steve was high on it.

Once everyone dissipated, Bucky too, Peggy had pushed him aside and demand he take Bucky to the infirmary, saying “God knows he needs something, his eyes are struck with terror. I can’t imagine the horrors he must have witnessed there.”

“I was just going to do that Peggy,” Steve told her, smile tight.

She looked at him considering. “Be sure to let me know how he is. Philips will be barging through the doors very soon, he’s barely holding himself back now. Make sure Sergeant Barnes is aware so he can prepare himself, and his answers. The General is not a patient man.”

She was giving him a warning of an imminent threat: interrogation. Giving Bucky time to assemble a story. Even though she didn’t know him, she was trusting him enough to give the necessary information without disclosing his own personal travesties and bearing his wounds to world for inspection.

“I will, Peggy. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me Steve, any man you believe deserves an unsanctioned and spontaneous rescue mission is a man I am willing to trust.” She tipped her head slightly.

“He does, for me he does. Thank you for letting me know about Philips, I’m going to check on him now, make sure he’s okay,” Steve said, smiling tenderly, grateful for the incredible woman who was Peggy Carter.

She truly was the most vibrant flower, bursting with colour and grace in a meadow infested with death. He could never repay her for her kindness and honesty, her comforting smiles an anecdote for his masked ailments.

But he didn’t want something to soothe his hurts, he wanted them gone all together and the only person who could alleviate all his suffering, was the one who thought he couldn’t have him. It was vicious.

He found Bucky in unfamiliar quarters after having salvaged helped from Dum Dum. The older man clapped his back kindly and pointed him in the direction, smiling reassuringly and knowingly. It was uncanny to see a stranger with wise eyes but didn’t question it, merely thanked him, and stalked in the direction to Bucky, ignoring the piercing gaze at his back.

Bucky was sat on the cot, staring blankly at the ground, a haziness surrounding his desolate body, dejection lining the perimeter of his silhouette. Steve breathed deeply, completely unnoticed. Quietly closing the door, he sat on the cot, on the opposite edge so Bucky had space.

Clearing his throat, he peered at him through his eyelashes and called, “Bucky?”

Jolting out of whatever thoughts held him captive, Bucky revived the corpse on his bed and turned to him confused, nodding whilst he confirmed, “Steve?”

“Yeah, it’s me pal,” he said, smiling brokenly. “Just wanted to check on you, it’s been a while.”

“You can say that again,” Bucky sighed, glancing at the floor. Before it sucked him in again, he shook himself and turned to Steve. “So.”

“How are you?” he asked, swallowing the unsaid words, and burning them with acid in the depth of his stomach.

“Oh, can’t you see Steve? I’m swell,” Bucky chirped, shaking his head sarcastically.

Steve frowned and scolded, “Buck.”

This was a primary defence system, wit and sarcasm to any personal questions, next deflecting them so they would never be answered. He used it on Steve occasionally, more since they’d broken up, but...where they were and the sheer instability of situation, he wasn’t going to let Bucky hide. He couldn’t protect him if he did.

They needed communication, now more than ever. He didn’t know how to convey that without breaching into unwanted territory. Sure, he could try, but was-

“I- I know that I’m asking for a lot right now, don’t exactly look or smell good-” he cracked a half-formed smile, “-but, could you maybe, hold me? Please?”

Vulnerability drenching Bucky’s face, an open sign of trust offered to him, Steve couldn’t formulate a reply. He merely shrugged his body alongside the bed, so he was pressed against Bucky and awkwardly draped his arms around him.

Unsatisfied, Bucky shifted in his grip, wriggling like an animal digging a hole into the earth to bury itself, he plastered his entire body against Steve and hid his face in his neck, breathing long and deep. Immediate relief washed over Steve, as he tightened his grip and pressed his nose into Bucky’s hair, resisting the temptation kiss it.

“It’s been so long Steve, so long since I’ve been happy. Since I’ve woke up and wanted to fight the world for what I want, get things done...I don’t know how any of that feels anymore,” Bucky whimpered onto his skin, trying but unable to get closer. “It’s been so long since anything’s felt right.”

“I know Buck, I know,” Steve soothed, bringing a hand to his head, and smoothing his hair on his scalp. It felt oily from the lack of washing, but he did it regardless.

“No, but you don’t. You don’t know. God, Stevie it feels like- it feels like I can’t be happy. I tried, so so hard, but there’s this cloud over me and it’s a constant shower and I’m cold, tired and I just need my sun back.” His voice was desperate, urgent in a way that-

That Steve tightened his grip some more, breathless at the implication and so very hopeful. “Bucky?”

“I’m so sorry Steve, I’m so sorry...I was so scared of everything that I just couldn’t do it. Figured that the only happiness I was allowed I got. But I wanted so much more, just couldn’t have it, and there’s been this ache in me, that’s throbbing, and I can’t get rid of it. I don’t know what to do.

“You made my nights and my days beautiful, made them worth living when I was with you, but you deserve someone so much better than me. You got another beautiful body, Carter can’t stop looking at you and it’s selfish- I know it. Jesus Christ. I know I’m being selfish but. But.”

His breaths hitched, spiking and Steve rubbed a palm over his back: up and down, hoping to ease the constriction in Bucky’s chest. He dare not speak in fear of destroying the tentative confession and what it could lead to, he needed to hear it for himself and for Bucky.

“But when I was lying on that table, I just needed you Steve,” he confessed, voice teary and his arms squeezing as hard as they could. “I wanted your smile and your anger, your sadness and your laugh; I wanted everything and anything you’d give. But I realised that I had lost it. It was gone. When I should have cherished it, I didn’t and-”

His voice broke before he could speak, a sob breaking through. Steve frowned, shaking his head resolutely and declaring, “whenever you need me, whenever you’re scared or remember me, I’ll be there.”

He’d become the wind and drift to Bucky, enclosing him in his embrace and carry him somewhere safe. Just how Bucky had whenever he found himself scattered on the concrete floor and bleeding feverishly from places blood was not to ooze. Bucky always found him, and he’d always find Bucky. It was destiny.

“Life’s too short to be scared,” Bucky stated, gulping, and inhaling deeply. “We can die at any time, any place and missing chances as rare as these will hurt more than any bullet or any...scientist.”

He wanted to know what happened to him in Azzano, was itching to question Bucky and just know, but he held his tongue. If Bucky wanted him to know he would. If he didn’t...then he wouldn't. It was as simple as that.

“God, Steve I…I love you so much and I’m sorry for everything, I’m so fucking sorry. I was a dick and I chose my fears over you, and even when you deserved more than a fuck up, I stayed because I couldn’t leave. If I had then maybe you could have found someone, and things would never had been so awful...I’m so, so sorry.”

Steve breathed deeply, composing himself. He knew that Bucky loved him, to some degree he always knew it existed. But hearing it again after months of deprivation, he wanted to drink as much of it as he could, saturate himself with the confession.

But then, he had to remember that Bucky wasn’t in any position to hear everything he wanted to say, wanted to discuss. He couldn’t handle it, and Steve wasn't for deciding what a person could bear, but now he understand all those times Bucky just knew and he gave him a chance to prove himself right.

He was always right.

Trusting his intuition and instinct, he caressed Bucky’s hair carefully and let him breathe against Steve, retrieving some self-control. He knew how liberating and draining a confession was. After all, he had been the one to do it the first time.

“It’s okay Bucky, all right? It’s okay. I knew what you did was never to hurt me, I always knew that you wanted the best for me, always have, right?” Bucky nodded vehemently. “I never once hated you for looking out for me, it's what we do, protect each other. So, when I say, I still love you and I never stopped, you gotta believe me, okay? Because- because I need you more than air.”

Steve felt Bucky grab his clothes and scrunch them in his fist. “Are you- are you being serious Steve? Don’t do this because of me, I was awful to do that, I deserve nothing less than your hate right but if you’re being serious...don’t lie to me Stevie please.”

“I’m not Buck, promise on my life I’m not. I love you, always have and always will. I never thought you’d come back to me but here you are. God, Bucky Barnes, I love you with all my heart.”

Bucky started to sniffle and then the sudden realisation hit him. Recalling Peggy’s words, he knew that General Philip would be on his way- if not now then soon and consoling Bucky before he got there would be almost impossible. They’d have to have the conversation elsewhere, where their time together didn’t have an expiration date.

“Peggy told me that General Philips is on his way to talk to you, wants to know what happened at the factory. She also said to mention that only tell him what _you_ think is important, not a single thing more. You want to get yourself together? Prepare yourself?” he asked, rubbing circles comfortingly.

“You’ll be there with me, right? You won’t leave me so soon, will you Stevie?” Bucky asked, distressed at any other outcome, heart beating rapidly.

“Of course, I will sweetheart, just got you back, won’t be letting go any time soon. Till the end of the line.”

Bucky nodded, relaxing against his chest, and sated. “I don’t know where this line will take us, but I’m with you until the end of it. Promise you Steve. Till the end of the line.”

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr:  bountifulsilences   
> twitter:  AwestruckBuck 


End file.
